la música es un billete de avión el silencio busca en los cajones cerrados las palabras ruedan cuesta abajo el esternón se retuerce y vibra la cabeza es Picasso en su inspiración
My friend assures me, 'It's all or nothing.' I am not worried, I am not overly concerned. My friend implores me, 'For one time only, Make an exception.' I am not worried. Wrap her up in a package of lies, Send her off to a coconut island. I am not worried, I am not overly concerned with the status of my emotions. 'Oh,' she says, 'you're changing.' We're always changing...
It does not bother me to say this isn't love. Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love. And I guess I'm gonna have to live with that. But I'm sure there's something in a shade of grey, Or something in between, And I can always change my name If that's what you mean.
My friend assures me, 'It's all or nothing.' But I am not really worried, I am not overly concerned. You try to tell yourself the things you try to tell yourself To make yourself forget. To make yourself forget. I am not worried. 'If it's love,' she said, 'then we're gonna have to think about the consequences.' But she can't stop shaking and I can't stop touching her and...
This time when kindness falls like rain It washes her away. And Anna begins to change her mind. 'These seconds when I'm shaking leave me shuddering for days,' she says. And I'm not ready for this sort of thing.
But I'm not gonna break and I'm not gonna worry about it anymore. I'm not gonna bend, and I'm not gonna break. And I'm not going to worry about it anymore. It seems like I should say, 'As long as this is love...' But it's not all that easy, so maybe I should Snap her up in a butterfly net and pin her down on a photograph album. I am not worried cuz I've done this sort of thing before. But then I start to think about the consequences, And I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and...
This time when kindness falls like rain It washes me away. And Anna begins to change my mind. And everytime she sneezes I believe it's love and, Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing.
She's talking in her sleep. It's keeping me awake. And Anna begins to toss and turn. And every word is nonsense but I understand and, Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing.
Her kindness bangs a gong, It's moving me along. And Anna begins to fade away. It's chasing me away. She disappears, and Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente, y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca. Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.
Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía. Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma, y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante. Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo. Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza: déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo. Eres como la noche, callada y constelada. Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente. Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto. Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan. Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.
Duermes, mientras la ciudad golpea el cristal con su llanto, ajena a tu sueño. Qué pena que este milagro de verte dormida en paz no desborde el muro de esta habitación. Ojalá que mañana, cuando te despiertes, duerma mi dolor.
[Ismael Serrano - Duermes]
...
O tal vez ese viento que te arranca del aburrimiento y te deja abrazada a una duda, en mitad de la calle y desnuda.
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O tal vez esa sombra que se tumba a tu lado en la alfombra a la orilla de la chimenea a esperar que suba la marea